Stepping Into the Snakepit
by LadySloth
Summary: Harry is in his Sophomore year, the school name has changed from CPHS to NHS, things are looking up. However, a self-absorbed villian looking to use what little smarts Harry has has offered a bounty for Harry-alive. Can Harry solve the puzzle and live?


**I do not own Harry Potter.**

**_1_**

"Has he talked?" an echoey voice asked, sounding a little annoyed. "If he hasn't, it'll be the interrogators head."

"Don't worry, sir-he's ready to talk." The servant quickly assured him, praying that the prisoner really was ready to talk.

The annoyed man and his servant walked down the halls, others hurriedly getting out of their way.

"Here we are, sir." The servant told his master giddily, opening the door for him. The master stepped inside and took a look at the man that was 'ready to talk'. He was pathetic, and it took a lot for the master to take pity on someone. His eyes had been slit apart, so he was blind to the point that no amount of magic could fix it, his legs had been crushed using a large boulder, he had had some of the world's most poisonous ants thrown on him, just to be given the anti-venom when he was ready to die from the pain. Quite frankly, the master would be surprised if he could even talk.

He would have the interrogators head for making him lose his appetite.

"Leave us." He ordered, waving a hand over his shoulder. The servant nodded frantically and left. "I've heard you're willing to talk?" the master asked the prisoner, towering over the slumped and defeated man at four feet one inch.

"Only if you promise to kill me. Please, I…I can't take it anymore!!" the prisoner cried out in a surprisingly clear voice.

"I swear. Cross my heart, hope to die." The master growled dryly, getting impatient. Honestly, he was going to be late for his massage!

"Blood-type Z-it's so rare that only three people have had it before! Napoleon, Galileo Galilee, and Genghis Khan!" the man cried out, lurching forward and accidentally splattering the master's boots with blood. The master almost had to physically restrain himself from striking the prisoner.

"Continue…" he growled, eager to kill this man.

"With blood-type Z, they can only accept blood donations from the dead-not the undead, the long-gone dead. The connection to death and circumstances it takes to create a being with blood-type Z is astounding-almost impossible!"

"Hence the almost, but tell me why you are telling me this-I asked for the secret that the science league 'The Ghouls' have been keeping for all these centuries. If it is just blood-type Z, I shall be forced to punish you severely by letting you live." Which would be such a let-down, too, 'cause he really wanted to kill his prisoner.

"Hardly 'just'!" the prisoner shouted, having the gall to sound indignant. "If you get your hands on someone with blood-type Z, you could control death itself!! Able to override necromancers, no matter how powerful they are! Think about it! Able to just point at someone and have them drop dead, or just think about having someone dead, and they die!! But…"

"But…?" the master egged on, getting excited now.

"The process in which to do this is…unknown. We know it can be done, but we don't know how…not even the bearer of blood-type Z would know…only someone who survived something particularly deadly as a baby would be able to figure it out and even then it would take a very long time…"

That was when the master shot him in the head.

"Thank you, you've told me all I need to know." He slammed the door open and handed the interrogator the gun. "First things first! You, interrogator, shoot yourself in the head!" the interrogator looked put-out and a little sad, but, pouting, did as he was told. And he had been so sure he had done his job right! Where did it go wrong?! "Now, I need to find out where Harry Potter is-we don't have time to find someone who isn't well-known that survived something deadly as a baby and he's the first random person I could think of!"

__

At registration for CPHS…what WAS CPHS

Harry sneezed loudly and sniffled, accepting the hanky that Andrea offered him.

"Why did they change the name of the school, again? It adds to the stress of registration and not to mention I'm catching a cold now." Harry finished mournfully, rubbing his nose.

"Yeah, and naming the school _Nebuchadnezzar High School _was just weird, now it's NHS instead of CPHS." Mike complained, his tail twitching in irritance.

"Well, other than the complaints over the name change, which happens every year-"

"We think that the new class is pretty cool-you gonna try for a Voodoo mastery now, oh great Master Necromancer, who can walk on air?" the twins quipped, circling Harry. Harry frowned.

"You know that I dropped that class-and you know that I refused the Mastery." He grumbled, crossing his arms.

"The drop-out genius, the drop-out genius!!" Andrea chanted, jumping up and down.

"YOU got held back…" Harry smirked, taunting her. He regretted it soon enough.

"Quick, while he's dazed, FORCE HIM TO SIGN UP FOR THE VOODOO CLASS!!" the twins yelled, dragging a beaten up Harry to the Voodoo class sign-up line, where Harry signed the papers not knowing what he had just signed.

The teacher, who had her entire face tattooed to look like a skull, grinned evilly.

"Happy to see the drop-out necromantic genius signing up for a related course-you shouldn't let one moron decide your future for you." She snickered, only it sounded a little diabolical. She twirled a piece of lime green hair around her index finger. "I dropped out too…" she trailed off, looking thoughtful before suddenly falling asleep. The twins shrugged and dragged Harry back to the place in line that he had been before.

Harry came-to groggily, and pick-pocketed the twins wallets in revenge for forcing him to do something, he couldn't remember what, he just knew that he wouldn't like it.

Andrea got her schedule first, then Mike, then Harry, then the twins. The twins were arguing over who had forgotten their wallets.

Harry looked at his schedule.

"Math at nine, Physics at ten thirty, World History at eleven thirty, Voodoo mastery at two, P.T. at three thirty, Meteorology at four thirty…that's it, but why the meteorology?"

Aras read over his shoulder, having come out of the skull.

"All those who have some control over the element of air must take it, but I'm more concerned with the Voodoo mastery, which I didn't sign up for…at least that I can remember…" Harry trailed off, glaring at the twins. They grinned nervously and ran away laughing.

Harry sighed and turned towards where the shops were.

"I'm gonna get some food-who's coming? Gluttony's Lair…" Andrea nodded and started to walk in that general direction, Mike made up an excuse about something or the other.

Harry and Andrea walked to Gluttony's Lair, talking about random things along the way.

""I think you should try out this class for a week or two." Andrea told Harry in an attempt to make him keep Voodoo Mastery.

"I suppose you're right…hey, Aaron?" Harry asked the barkeep, who looked up.

"What can I do ya'll for?" he asked cheerfully, tucking a piece of paper away into his back pocket.

"I'm confused-you look like a student, but you work here…" Harry trailed off, sitting at a barstool, Andrea flopping down on one. Not the smartest idea on Andrea's part, as the barstool was wood, but she recovered.

"Ah-that. Well, I AM a student-I'm a sophomore this year, but I also have the requirements naturally that it takes to work for the school-it's not something I'm allowed to go in-depth into." Aaron explained reasonably, shrugging.

"So in other words-this is a cover-up job." Andrea supplied, still rubbing her butt.

"Yes, now-what can I get you?" Aaron asked, changing the subject. Harry played along and ordered a burrito and a soda, Andrea ordered a hamburger and a glass of milk.

"What?!" Andrea asked when Harry gave her a strange look when she said milk, "Strong bones and all that!"

It was then that the principle ran into the bar screaming and hid behind the bar.

"DR. DIATE, GET YOUR BUTT BACK HERE!!" a secretary screamed at him, dragging him from behind the bar.

"BUT I HATE PAPERWORK!!" he shrieked, making a big fuss all the way back.

Harry stared after them for a bit, then went on with his life by eating his burrito.

This year he shouldn't have any disruptions, but he still had that ominous feeling that something very bad was going to happen.


End file.
